Overhaul
by dangeu
Summary: "You're in pirate lands, wearing the Queen's colors, you might want to answer my questions before you start asking for favors." (Pirate AU to quell my needy heart / Rating subject to change)
1. No Quarter

**Sleepy Hollow © **_Alex Kurtzman, Roberto Orci, Phillip Iscove, Len Wisemen_

**Overhaul  
**

**Prologue/**

Mills saw him through a telescope. The man, adorned in Her Majesty's colors—already a bad a sign—had been trying to stand, but he kept staggering. He didn't even have the strength to raise his arms above his head which was what Mills thought he was doing anyway. Finally, he tripped on his own feet and jerked his hands in front of him to stop his fall. From what Mills gathered, he wasn't able to, as the man stumbled to the white sand, giving up. After one final desperate wave towards Mills, the man stopped moving all together.

"Is he dead," Captain Irving asked Mills who was right by her side peering into his own telescope. She shrugged in reply, suddenly curious.

"Do you want me to check?"

The Captain nodded before giving her a stern stare, as if she missed something important. "Of course," He signaled for the rest of his crew to ready the row boats. "You want to do this yourself Mills?"

Mills retracted her telescope and fastened it to her belt, "give the word, Captain, and I'll gladly row to shore on my own."

The Captain gave her a placid smile and nodded once more, "then I give word Mills. But bring some men with you, no point in getting killed because we didn't call an ambush." She gave a curt nod and called forward two crew-mates who quickly accepted without a hint of hesitation.

It hadn't been long when she was chosen to be the Sleepy Hollow's first mate; it had been exciting for her but elicited caution for the rest of the crew even when the company didn't care much for the superstitious bad luck that women brought to a ship. They had all agreed that Abbie Mills was a good first mate to Captain Irving—she was strong and fearless, and commanded attention with her voice. She was short in stature but she could carry the cutlass like she was one of the men. As far as anyone was concerned, Abbie Mills was a pirate worthy enough for all seven seas.

"Let's stay cautious men," Mills ordered as the two other men rowed their boat towards shore.

"Do we blow the man down handsomely and cleanly, as always Mills?" one of them cracked. She knew he was referring to the way she tend to slay her aggressors. Mills may be a pirate, but she preferred a cut and dry way of execution. It was better to look at and there was less to clean if it happened on the Sleepy Hollow.

Mills grinned, "if he decides to jump the gun, as always."

Once the boat was close enough to shore, Mills jumped out and didn't wait for the other two to pull the boat ashore and stalked towards the man who hadn't moved a muscle. She drew her cutlass, ready to cut if he was to suddenly move towards her.

The man had indeed been wearing the Navy's colors, and it looks as if he had been there for a few days now. She glanced towards her crew-mates, "seems like our man was marooned." Mills prodded the man with the tip of her boot, watching for movement.

Suddenly, he groaned and slowly sat up, watching around him. "Water—please."

Mills raised an eyebrow, "there's water all around you, why not take a swig of that?" She was playing him of course; her questions must be answered before his desires could even be met.

"Please—!" he tried to grab at her leg, earning him a knife to his throat.

"Don't run the rig with me mate," Mills said, low and dangerous. "You're in pirate lands, wearing the Queen's colors, you might want to answer my questions before you start asking for favors."

He struggled to stand—Mills already knew the man would be taller than her if he managed, so she kicked his leg under. "Stay down and answer my questions first—aye?" She took his silence as agreement and motioned for her crew-mates to tie the man's hands behind his back.

"Mills, the tide's coming in—you want us to strap him to a tree or bring him aboard to dance the hempen jig?" One of her crew-mates yelled from the shoreline. She looked over to the Sleepy Hollow, wondering if she should bring the man aboard.

She gave the man a good look, close to questioning herself. Mills knew that a wrong order could cause her the lives of the crew, but her stubborn mind told her she could deal with the concequences. "Take him aboard," she commanded and the man was dragged towards the row boat. "We'll do our questioning there and if the man gives me any reason of doubt—" she gave the man a dangerous look—one that even her crew-mates feared, "I'll be sure to give no quarter."


	2. A Form of Mutiny

**Sleepy Hollow**

**Chapter One / A Form of Mutiny**

"I won't lie," the Captain gave the captive a look as the men dragged him to the brig. "I'm questioning your judgment."

Mills felt her stomach turn at her Captain's words. She looked away, suddenly conscious of what real troubles she brought on board with her decision. She licked her lips and took a deep breath, "I'll take responsibility for whatever mal he brings, Captain." Mills chided herself, hoping very hard she made the right choice.

"I doubt you'd be saying the same thing when we're knee deep in fish shit," the Captain sighed. "It would be both our heads Mills. I don't get the title Captain without ordering a few stubborn monkeys around."

Mills nodded, acknowledging that the Captain had given her a warning. Their friendship took her out of hot water, but she was sure his patience for her antics wasn't going to last. Despite the display of trust, Mills felt guilty already, which was silly considering nothing has happened yet. _But there's time for something to turn sour, lass_. She thought.

"I'll see to the prisoner," she took another deep breath, stopping herself from sighing.

The Captain gave her a reassuring smile, "you do that."

XX

The Sleepy Hollow did not keep captives; it was the crew's general rule. It was the cautious nature of Captain Irving, however, that gave the crew no qualms about obliterating an enemy. Mills was sure that the crew finally questioned her rank as first mate and any acceptance of her decision was out of respect to the Captain.

The two crew-mates she was with was watching over the captive, muttering bets to each other about how she's going to go about treating the prisoner.

"He'd rot down here, forgotten," one of them said.

The other laughed, "with Mills? She'd cut him wide open and dump him for Davy Jones."

"What I do with the man would be my business lads," Mills interrupted, watching the man carefully. She noticed his blistered skin under the rough lighting of the brig. He was slumped at the corner of the cell, looking dead.

She rattled the bars, jerking the man awake, "show a leg, bilge rat."

The man stared at her with surprised eyes. He tried to speak but she raised a hand to stop him. "Who are you?" Mills folded her arms across her chest.

"Ichabod Crane," he croaked, parched like a desert.

"Andy!" Mills suddenly barked, it made the prisoner and the other men with her jump. "Get the bilge rat water, then leave us."

"Is that a wise decision Mills?" the other one frowned as Andy rushed to get what she asked for.

Mills gave him a stony stare, "take a caulk, Luke. I won't have you questioning me."

Luke shook his head to show his disapproval before stalking up the steps towards the main deck. Andy came back quickly, reaching between the bars to force the man to drink until he choked on it.

When Mills thought Crane had enough she dismissed Andy all together. "Still parched, Ichabod Crane?"

He coughed and shook his head, "no, thank you." It was a cheeky reply, Mills thought.

"A little early for thanks," she felt herself tense up. "How did you end up on that island? Not a lot of the Queen's men know about that island."

Crane raised an eyebrow, which pricked her temper. "Now that my head is clearer—a woman on a ship?" He shifted his weight to sit himself higher. "Is mutiny close behind?"

"How did you end up on that island?" Mills repeated, ignoring his attempt at a taunt.

"I diverted from conduct," Crane dared a small grin. "There's no point on saying anything though. You're not going to believe me. You've already made your assumptions based on my attire."

"Try me," was her reply.

He sighed, "I promise you, I have no legion to the Queen's Navy. _Or _to anyone for that matter."

"Easy to say, hard to prove." Mills stood to attention. If he had no legion to anyone, he could be a hired assassin, trained to gain the trust of a crew and slay their captain when no one was looking. She, of all people, would know.

"I swear," Crane had a tone of urgency in his voice as he stood suddenly. "I am no danger to you or your crew. I was marooned by my captain and—"

Mills almost gasped when she noticed a small trinket fall from his pocket. Quickly, she left him mid-sentence, making sure she was out of sight before taking shaky breaths. She had to gather her thoughts and answer her own question of why did she even let him aboard. Something about him had called to her, she was sure. Surely, the trinket proved her instincts. Mills muttered angrily to herself, disappointed at the very poor decision she was about to make. She grabbed the keys hanging near the brig door and unlocked Crane's cell. Withdrawing a small knife, she swiftly closed the distance between herself and Crane and pressed the knife to his neck. Now that he was standing, she saw that she only reached up to his shoulder, but it didn't quell the danger in her eyes.

"Give me a name," she roared. Crane was taken aback and he retreated, hitting his back against the bars of the cell.

"A name?" he was agitated now too, Mills pointed at the small golden trinket with her free hand.

"Give me a name before I gut you," she said with more calm. "Whose ship did you serve?"

He glanced at the golden trinket and his expression softened, for some reason, understanding her rage. "I was the navigator for the Tribulations." Mills didn't lessen her grip on the knife, so he continued cautiously. "And I answered to Captain Moloch."

Mills froze for a moment, taking in the information she had wanted for so long. She gave Crane a small pat on the shoulder—one that even she found a little too calm of a reaction. "Thank you for your cooperation." She said, which made it feel even worse. Mills walked out of the cell and locked it behind her, making a mad dash for the Captain.

It had been a habit of hers to enter the Captain's quarters without knocking, but for her to drop the habit now was lost to her. "Come in," she heard Captain Irving say and she clenched her hands into fists, nervous all of a sudden.

"Captain, I know the ship and who's running it." Mills said all in a rush before fully closing the door behind her. "It's a Navy ship, we can finally pursue this."

Her Captain didn't say anything, understanding what she was trying to say. Then he sighed, something she wish he didn't do. "You're asking me to risk the crew for a Navy ship?"

"No," Mills was defiant, "I'm asking you to avenge an ally's death."

"It doesn't work that way Mills." The Captain unrolled a map from his desk and spread it out, marking one of the ports. "How do you know he's not toying with you? The man is a stranger, a captive, a prisoner. How do you know he won't slice your pretty little neck when you have your back to him?"

Mills swallowed, "I don't," she let out an exasperated huff, "but Crane knows the crew that killed Corbin. It's the closest thing I have."

"I can't let you throw away your life for the first clue you get," Captain Irving marked another port on the map.

"There are a handful of crews that had that island on their map. That was the first reason why we even gave it a second glance. Of all places, Crane was on that island. Why?"

"Because it's a trap?" He reasoned. "Look Mills, I know you've been going at this for as long as I've known you, but I can't risk the crew for an old grudge."

"I—!" Mills started.

"But," Captain Irving interrupted, "we're going for port soon. I respect you Mills, and I'll help you when you need it, but you're not pursuing this with my crew. You're on your own on this."

Mills took a deep breath, "I'll think about it."

"Do that, you have three days to decide," the Captain shooed her out of the room. "I'm sure the crew is up in arms, calm them will you?"

"Yes, Captain." Mills replied, dejected. A sudden iron will came upon her as she left the Captain's quarters. She wasn't going to let the crew see her crack. It was a sure thing that the crew would question her authority now if they saw her growing soft.

"I'm sure you have questions," Mills started with a loud, clear, voice. The crew gave her their attention.

"We hanging the marooned fella?" One asked, followed by shouts of approval. Mills raised a hand and gave them a tight smile.

"No, we're keeping him alive for now," Mills didn't like the groans of disapproval that swept through the crew. "I promise you, he won't cause trouble, and if he does, I'll personally deal with it."

A crew-mate near her snickered, "the bilge rat had a good face, Mills. You sure you're not letting him sniff you out for his life?" He cackled, enjoying the joke. Without warning, Mills took out her cutlass and brought it down hard on his hand that rested on a barrel.

"I think someone is going to need a new hand," she jibed, picking up the man's severed hand and throwing it towards the crew. "I'll be in the brig if you need me, letting the bilge rat sniff me out."

There was a follow of snickers and whistles as she disappeared into the lower decks. She took a deep breath and settled herself on a stool, just in front of Crane's cell.

"I sense a disturbance," he commented, seating himself comfortably in the middle of the cell. Mills kicked the cell bars, startling him. "Well then, my apologies." He said, "I owe you my life."

"You do," she replied, folding her arms again. "They were ready to hang you. The Sleepy Hollow doesn't keep prisoners."

"But you believe me," Crane stared, unblinking, "which explains my continued existence."

Mills rolled her eyes, "you're all I have." She knew how it sounded, but it was the only genuine thing she could say for now.

"Tempted," Crane spared her a smile, "but I don't think what I'm imagining is what you have in mind."

Mills uncrossed her arms and leaned forward in her seat, "you said you were a navigator for Captain Moloch's ship."

"Yes," he replied slowly.

"And I assume the Horsemen are part of the crew?" Mills knew she was giving away too much, but she reasoned she's far too cautious to get in trouble now. It was the Horsemen that she cared about. She would leave Captain Moloch in the middle of the sea with canons strapped to his boots, but the Horsemen—she'd cut them up before they could beg for their lives.

"They are," Crane sighed. "I managed to cut one of their heads off before they got me in chains." He watched for her reaction.

"You missed three others." She replied without missing a beat.

"Hard to please, aren't you?" Crane was sardonic. "Anyway, may I know the name of my captor? I deserve to know that much, have I not?"

Mills considered leaving him here with his question unanswered, but the thought as a rowdy crew was daunting. "It's Mills."

Crane smiled, "Mills and nothing else?"

She licked her lips in annoyance, "Abbie Mills, first mate to Captain Irving of the Sleepy Hollow."

"Impressive…and a pleasure, Lady Mills." Crane gave her a mocking bow and she returned it with a sarcastic smile.

"Lady is hardly the title," she pointed out.

"What would you prefer then?" He humored her.

Mills stood up and stretched her back before sitting back down, "I'd prefer 'Miss.'" She grinned, catching his subtle jest. "I'm not one for corsets or gowns."

Crane finally let out a genuine laugh, "If you tried you'd be a belle."

"I don't think blood and sweat is an acceptable perfume for a ball." She huffed.

XX

In the three days that Mills spent in the brig with Crane, she came to trust him a bit more. It didn't stop her, however, from double checking the locks on his cell. She did give him enough credit to keep his hands unbound.

"Today's the day, Crane." Mills unlocked the cell and lead him up the main deck, her cutlass squarely pointed at the middle of his back.

"I'm offended," he quipped, pausing to give her a look. "I thought we were friends."

"Best friends," Mills gave him a small push forward.

He paused another time, "have we reached port?"

"Aye," Mills shoved him harder and he stumbled. He scoffed at her aggressiveness this time but continued up the steps. "But we're not anywhere near ports you're used to mate."

When they reached the main deck, Crane understood what she meant; they were anchored on a pirate seaport, far away from any Navy vessels that could give him assured freedom.

"Do you think I'll try to escape?" Crane scoffed again, feinting shock at the mistrust.

"Not at all Crane, but I'd better be safe than sorry." She led him to Captain Irving's quarters. "You're lucky we didn't brand your arse."

"Lucky indeed," he breathed.

Captain Irving was standing over several maps at his desk when Mills barged in.

"You should learn how to knock," he said without looking up from his work. When he finally did he noticed Crane by her side. "So you've decided."

Mills nodded, "Aye." She was sure of her choice.

Captain Irving spared Crane a glance before training his attention on her, "And? To Davy Jones with the lad or do you retire your rank?"

When put in those terms it made Mills waver for a moment, but what she felt was right was stronger than a rank, "I can't let it go Captain."

"I understand," he said calmly. "You'll be leaving a lot behind."

Mills smiled sadly, "a lot of things that I won't be worthy of unless I finish this."

Captain Irving walked up to her and shook her hand, "It was a pleasure working with you Abbie Mills, I'm sure you'll acquire your own ship in due time. And whatever help you need, you can count on me as an ally."

"Thank you Captain," Mills let go of her inhibitions and gave him a hug. "I'll see to it I don't disappoint."

"And you, bilge rat," Captain Irving set his sights on Crane. "If I hear you've harmed a hair on her head, you can trust even Davy Jones won't find you."

"Scary," Crane offered his hand which the Captain ignored.

"Very well then Captain, land ho." Mills said, giving him one final nod before unloading from the Sleepy Hollow, Crane behind her.

**Chapter One End / **Music accompaniment for **A Form of Mutiny **credits: DOUBTFUL by GREGORY AND THE HAWK


End file.
